


Bears in New York

by manypastfrustrations



Series: Immortal Boyfriends [2]
Category: Forever (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Character Death, Immortality, M/M, Serious Injuries, does it count if the character is immortal though, injury description
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manypastfrustrations/pseuds/manypastfrustrations
Summary: Why are there bear attacks in the middle of New York City? Why is Jack being so cagey about his job? And why is it so difficult to write summaries?A sequel to my previous Henry/Jack story, 'There's Something About Jack'. Not necessary to have read that first, but spoilers for that lie within.





	1. Bears?

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is a sequel to a previous crossover story. In case you haven't read it, basically you need to know that Henry and Jack met during World War II, and spent a night together. Then they met again in the twenty-first century, and were both very confused as to how the other was not only alive, but looked the same. They eventually discovered each other's secret when they were involved in an explosion, and they've been happily ever after since then.  
> Now prepare for the next chapter in their very long lives, involving - as you may have guessed - bears.

It was ten to five in the afternoon, and Henry Morgan was nervous.

Up until now, it had been a fairly average Thursday – that is, as average as a Thursday could be for an immortal M.E. in New York. There had been a rash of unexplained killings in the area, which Henry suspected may be the beginning of one of the strange cases which seemed to be his specialty.

_“Bears,” Henry had announced to his detective colleagues, about an hour earlier._

_They stared at him blankly. “Bears,” Mike repeated slowly._

_“That’s right,” Henry confirmed._

_“Bears,” Jo said. “In the middle of New York City.”_

_“Yup,” Lucas had said. “Weird, huh?”_

_Mike knew that he may be pointing out the obvious, but felt that someone had to do it. “There aren’t any bears around.”_

_“And yet,” Henry said, “the marks on these bodies are consistent with a bear attack. They have been mauled by something that is definitely not human. There are some differences, but a bear seems to be the closest match we have found so far.”_

_“Bears,” Jo had said, one last time for good luck._

Later, in his office, Henry gave a small smile. “Bears,” he said to himself quietly, shaking his head as he signed off the autopsy report. This was going to be a good case, he could feel it.

At that moment, the cause of his nervousness arrived, in the form of his mobile phone ringing. He recognised the ringtone, and flipped it open immediately. “Jack,” Henry said with a smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” came the familiar voice through the phone. “How’s it going?”

Henry felt himself relaxing as soon as he heard Jack’s voice. “Gorgeous,” he commented. “That’s a new one.”

“You don’t like it?” Jack asked. “How about ‘darling’?”

Henry smiled. He wasn’t usually one for pet names, but Jack had taken it upon himself lately to call Henry every pet name he could think of. Henry found that he liked it, more than he had thought he would. “Gorgeous is fine,” he said.

“All right, gorgeous,” Jack said. “Are you ready to do what we discussed last night?”

At that, Henry felt his stomach begin to tighten. “I think so,” he said after a pause.

“Are you sure?” Jack sounded concerned. “I don’t want to push you into anything before you’re ready.”

“No, it’s fine,” Henry said. He took a deep breath, and nodded, although he knew Jack couldn’t see him. “I’m ready to take the next step.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jack said, and Henry could hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll meet you outside in, shall we say, twenty minutes?”

Henry glanced at the clock. “Twenty minutes would be perfect.”

“See you then, gorgeous.”

“Bye, sexy,” Henry said, and hung up, cutting off the sound of Jack’s surprised chuckle.

He heard a knock at the door, and glanced up to see Lucas standing in the open doorway. “How’s Jack?” Lucas asked, and Henry knew he must have heard the end of the conversation.

“Jack is fine,” Henry said. “He’s picking me up shortly. Are you ready to go?”

“Done all the paperwork, checked the bodies in,” Lucas said. “Just gotta change out of my scrubs and I’ll be good to go.”

“Right, I’ll meet you by the lift in ten minutes,” Henry said.

“Righto, boss,” Lucas said, turning and heading out the door. It wasn’t until he was in the locker room that it occurred to him that Henry didn’t usually want to leave together, not unless they were going to a bar later on with the detectives (which they were doing more often lately, a fact which pleased Lucas greatly). He shrugged, figuring that Henry had his reasons. He was Henry, after all.

And so it came to pass that Henry Morgan was standing in his office at ten to five in the afternoon, nervously watching the clock tick its way around to the hour. He was looking forward to his evening with Jack, of course, but it wasn’t dinner that worried him. It was the other thing they had talked about – taking the next step in their relationship.

It was something Henry had done before in the past, but under different circumstances, with different people. He wasn’t sure how it would turn out this time, or whether he’d even be brave enough to go through with it, when the time came.

Biting his lip, Henry checked the time on his phone, as though it might yield a different result from the clock on his desk. The time remained the same, but the picture of Jack’s smiling face behind the numbers relaxed him slightly.

Henry waited a few more minutes, slowly packing his belongings for the night and getting ready to go. At precisely two minutes to five he grabbed his hat and coat from the coat-stand and put them on slowly, playing for time. He turned out the light and closed the office door, slowly making his way across the morgue towards the lift.

His timing proved to be perfect, as he only had to wait ten seconds before Lucas appeared at his side with a bag and a large smile. “Let’s go,” he said, leaning forward and pushing the button for the elevator. “So, where are you going with Jack?” Lucas asked conversationally as they waited.

“He’s taking me out for a meal,” Henry said. “It’s his turn.”

Nine more seconds passed before the doors opened, and they piled into the carriage along with a few other medical examiners. Another four for the doors to close, and then they were moving upwards towards the lobby.

“See, that’s a something I could get behind,” Lucas commented as they rose. “Taking turns to pay for meals. Dating must be easier with two guys. Not to mention cheaper.”

The doors opened with a _ding_ , and everyone piled out. “Well, it does have its moments,” Henry said.

“Plus, with you guys both into long coats, your wardrobes would double!” Lucas said.

Henry opened his mouth to say that no, he and Jack were not in the habit of wearing each other’s clothing (yet), but was interrupted by a voice behind them. “Henry!”

He turned to see Jo and Mike coming up behind them through the busy lobby. The detectives caught up with them, and they began to walk out together.

“Are you guys doing anything tonight?” Lucas asked.

“We thought we’d grab a drink at that bar around the corner before heading home,” Jo said.

“Say, do you two wanna come?” Mike added as they stepped out into the street.

“I’d love to!” Lucas said.

“How about you, Henry?” Jo asked.

“I apologise, but I have a prior engagement. A friend is taking me out to dinner,” Henry said. “In fact,” he said, looking at a sports car that had pulled up right in front of the doors, “here he is now.” He turned to the others and smiled. “I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

“You too,” Lucas said.

“See you tomorrow,” Jo added.

Henry turned and went towards the car, which Jack was just getting out of. He walked around the bonnet onto the sidewalk. “Hey,” he said, pulling Henry into a hug.

“Hey yourself,” Henry said; then he reached around Jack’s shoulders, pulling Jack’s head to his and pressing their lips together gently.

Jack reciprocated the kiss, smiling a little. They stayed there for a few seconds, then broke apart, looking each other in the eyes. “Wanna ride?” Jack asked, nodding his head towards the car.

“Yes, please,” Henry said. Jack opened the door for Henry with a mock bow, and Henry got in. As Jack shut the door, he glanced back towards the sidewalk, smiling a little at the faces of two confused detectives and one excited M.E.

Jack got in the other side and turned the engine on. “So, how did it feel?” he asked, looking at Henry. “Taking the next step. It wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, I suppose not,” Henry said. “In fact, it was rather enjoyable.”

Jack reached across and took Henry’s hand. “I knew you could do it.”

“I feel silly now, for having been worried,” Henry admitted.

“Hey,” Jack said. “You’ve lived for a long time in eras where people like us weren’t accepted. I know what that’s like. It makes sense that you’d be worried about coming out like that, even now. I think you’re brave.” He gave Henry’s hand a squeeze.

“You’re right,” Henry said. He glanced back at the pavement, then at Jack. “It was fun, though,” he admitted.

“I should think so,” Jack said with a half-smile. “Now, I believe I promised you a swanky dinner?”

“You know, I believe you did,” Henry said, relaxing back into his seat. Now the difficult part was over, he was looking forward to an evening with his boyfriend.

Jack squeezed Henry’s hand again, then let go, focusing on pulling the car out into the busy New York traffic.

Outside the precinct, Jo, Mike, and Lucas watched as the car drove away, only to get stopped after a few yards at a red light.

Jo was the first to speak. “Wow,” was all she could say.

“I don’t kiss my friends like that,” Mike commented.

Jo and Lucas both turned towards him. “I don’t think they were just friends,” Jo said slowly.

“They’re not,” Lucas said excitedly. He was almost bursting with excitement at the chance to finally tell Henry’s secret. Well, one of his secrets. “Jack is Henry’s boyfriend,” he explained, as Jo and Mike turned and looked at him questioningly. “They were together a long time ago. Ages. They met again recently, and decided to get back together.”

“Well,” Jo said. “Lucky Henry.”

“Good for him,” Mike said. “But why did you know about them, when we didn’t?”

Lucas smiled. “He tells me everything.”

A voice spoke from behind them. “That was brave of Henry.” They turned around to see Lieutenant Reece standing behind them, watching the car which was now pulling away from the red light. “I’m glad Henry finally got up the courage to come out,” she continued. “I hope they’re happy together.”

Jo frowned. “Wait, you knew too? Did Henry tell you as well?”

Reece turned to Jo, her expression inscrutable. “I know everything that goes on in my precinct,” she said. She winked, before turning slowly and walking back inside the building.

“Man, why am I always the last to hear about things?” Mike muttered.

Jo sighed. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get a drink. I know I need one.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “That bear case is doing my head in.”

Lucas smiled. “Bears,” he said to himself, as they walked down the street to their regular bar.


	2. Meet the bear

“Bears?” Jack asked incredulously.

“Bears,” Henry confirmed.

“In New York City?”

“That’s what everyone keeps asking,” Henry said. “I can’t explain it, I just know that the marks are more consistent with a bear attack than any other creature we know of.”

Jack chuckled. “I’m in the wrong job,” he said. “Being a medical examiner sounds way more fun.”

“Not for the corpses,” Henry commented, taking a sip of his wine.

“True,” Jack laughed.

Their mains arrived at that moment, and the next couple of minutes were spent sorting out who had what and what it tasted like and whose was better (Henry won). They settled into companionable dining for a few minutes, until Henry broke the silence. “How was your day?”

“Oh, same old, same old. You know.” Jack flashed Henry a smile and went back to eating.

“No,” Henry said. “I don’t.”

Jack faltered for a moment. “Sorry,” he said, laying down his fork. “Force of habit.”

“When will you tell me what you do for a living?” Henry asked. He had been hinting for weeks, but decided that the time for subtlety was over.

“Soon,” Jack said, giving a crooked half-smile. “When the time comes.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press the matter further.

“Although,” Jack said, picking up his fork again, “I did see something interesting today. Tell me, have you ever seen a group of nuns in a fistfight?”

Henry considered the question. “How many nuns are we talking about?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’d say about half a flock."

Henry laughed at that, and suddenly the atmosphere at the table lightened. They relaxed into the easy conversation, sticking to insignificant topics and sharing funny stories. Henry resolved to ask again, at a time when they were not trying to enjoy a nice meal together.

Dessert arrived shortly afterwards, a slice of gooey chocolate cake for Henry and a bowl of cream and meringue that the menu had described as ‘Eton mess’ for Jack. The waiter also brought out a liqueur for each of them, which Henry didn’t remember ordering. “I hope you’re not trying to get me drunk, Mr Harkness,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Now why would I do that?” Jack grinned.

“Alcohol affects the prefrontal cortex first,” Henry said, running a finger around the rim of his glass, “as well as the ventral striatum. Among other things, this lowers the drinker’s inhibitions, meaning that they could do anything they might not normally do.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk medical to me,” Jack winked.

Henry wondered at his boyfriend’s ability to make any sentence sound suggestive, but decided to roll with it anyway. “I’d better not start telling you about the hippocampus, then,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “We don’t want you getting too excited. Yet,” he added, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow.

“We wouldn’t want that,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair. He picked a strawberry from the top of his dessert with one hand and tossed it into his mouth. He chewed for a second and swallowed, before realising that the strawberry was larger than he had anticipated. A horrified look crossed his face for a moment, and he began to cough violently. He wrapped a hand around his neck, signalling to Henry that he was choking.

Henry stood up, alarmed. He stepped around the table and placed a hand on Jack’s back. He waited a second to make sure Jack was choking, before hitting his boyfriend hard, square in the middle of his spine. A pause, then another thump.

Thankfully, the strawberry dislodged itself from Jack’s throat and flew across the room, landing on a table two rows away. The woman whose wrist it landed on gave a shriek, drawing the attention of several other diners; and instinctively flung her hand up, causing the strawberry to go flying once again. This time it landed squarely on the table in front of Jack, who was still coughing, but from laughing rather than choking.

The offending strawberry was whisked away by a waiter, replaced almost immediately with a glass of water, which Jack took gratefully and took a big gulp. The diners around them went back to their meals, the sound quietening to a low murmur once more.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Henry asked, sitting back down. He still looked concerned, although the immediate danger had passed.

Jack nodded. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Side effect of having a body that’s constantly repairing itself.”

“It does sound useful,” Henry said, reaching across and picking up a strawberry from Jack’s plate. He turned it over in his fingers, and frowned. “You’ve put bigger things than that in your mouth before,” he commented, putting it back on the plate.

Jack choked again, this time on his water. “You shouldn’t say things like that when a man’s drinking, Henry,” he said, shooting his boyfriend an accusatory glance.

“Sorry,” Henry said, picking up a bite of chocolate cake.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like it,” Jack hastened to add.

Henry raised an eyebrow, placing the fork in his mouth and pulling it out again slowly. He swallowed, and licked the chocolate off the fork slowly, all the while keeping eye contact with Jack.

Jack swallowed, and shifted in his seat.

Henry put the last morsel of cake in his mouth, this time closing his eyes as he savoured the taste. “Mmm,” he said. “That is beautiful.” He opened his eyes and looked at Jack. “Not as beautiful as you, though,” he added, licking the fork once more.

Jack stuck his hand in the air, looking around for the waiter. “Check, please!”

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jack and Henry were walking down a quiet street hand in hand. Occasionally a car would rush past them, but otherwise the street was empty, with nobody paying them any attention. This suited the two men just fine.

“I thought we parked closer to the restaurant,” Henry remarked as they turned a corner.

“Nearly there,” Jack promised him, squeezing Henry’s hand. “I remember, it was just past this alley-”

He was cut off by the sound of something metallic toppling over in said alley. Whatever it was, it sounded heavy.

Henry jumped at the sound, and stopped walking. “What was that?” he asked, before realising that Jack wouldn’t have any more idea than he did.

“I don’t know,” Jack said slowly, taking a careful step towards the alley. He held Henry’s hand behind his back, automatically shielding him from the alley.

Henry was having none of that. He let go of Jack’s hand and stood at his side “You’re not the only immortal on the block,” he muttered, peering around the corner into the dark alleyway.

Jack rolled his eyes, but made no more objection, instead looking over Henry’s shoulder into the alleyway. He couldn’t see anything, although that was to be expected at this time of night. New York City was full of lights, enough to block out the stars, but none of them deigned to shine any light into the opening of this particular alley. Fortunately, Jack was prepared for any situation. Well, almost any.

“Where did you get that?” Henry asked, as Jack held up a flashlight.

Jack winked at him, then squinted into the darkness. The flashlight beam didn’t do much to illuminate the dingy pathway between two buildings. The weak light scrambled across a brick wall, before stopping in defeat and dropping to the ground, so Jack could see to walk without banging into anything. Jack slapped it with his palm. “Stupid battery.”

Henry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before he could go in. “We don’t know there’s anything worth investigating,” he pointed out. “It could have been a raccoon.”

Jack was about to answer when the metallic crashing sound happened again, this time louder. It sounded as though something – or someone – was being thrown against a metal surface. Jack raised an eyebrow. “That’s a big raccoon.”

Henry hesitated. “Be careful,” was all he said, and Jack understood. They may both be immortal, but it was never pleasant to see someone you loved in trouble, something Jack knew from experience. Far too much experience.

He raised a reassuring hand to Henry’s. “I will,” he said, before gently picking Henry’s hand off his shoulder and turning back around. He inched forwards into the alley, keeping the flashlight beam at his feet, Henry half a step behind. “Hello?” he called out.

He was answered this time by a sickening _crunch_ , which sounded distinctly like bones being broken. “Who’s there?” Jack called, knowing that whoever it was probably wouldn’t answer. It made him feel better to have asked.

His foot nudged something soft, and he dropped the beam to see what he had almost trodden on – an arm. Human, possibly. Probably.

There was a small intake of breath from behind him, and Henry dropped to his knees, feeling his way up the arm to the rest of the body. Between the faint flashlight beam and his knowledge of human anatomy, Henry could tell that it belonged to a male of between forty and fifty years of age, who enjoyed golf, and who had one leg currently pinned underneath a large metal dumpster. More worrying, however, was the depression in the man’s chest, where he could tell several ribs had been cracked and broken. This had been the source of the earlier crunching sound, he realised. He held a hand to the man’s throat. “He’s alive,” Henry whispered to Jack, “but only just.”

Jack handed the flashlight to Henry, pulling another one out of his pocket, along with something else he thought he would need. Henry glanced up, and sighed. “You’ve got a gun.”

“Good observation,” Jack muttered, turning on the flashlight and holding it above the gun in a practised manoeuvre. He was pleased to see that this flashlight had a stronger beam, illuminating more of the alleyway then the previous one. He was less pleased by Henry’s next question.

“You brought a gun on a date?”

Jack turned to him. “Really? _That’s_ your concern right now?”

Henry rolled his eyes and turned back to his patient. He had to figure out how to stabilise the man until emergency services could arrive with proper equipment. Unfortunately, Henry had no equipment, which made his end of the job difficult. He frowned, putting the gears in his brain to work.

Jack, meanwhile, was inching further into the alley, peering into every nook and cranny with the flashlight and gun before moving on. Eventually, he came across another dumpster, which appeared to be growling.

A bad feeling appeared in Jack’s stomach. “No,” he whispered as he approached the dumpster. “Not tonight.”

Slowly, carefully, Jack leaned around the side of the dumpster, letting the flashlight beam skitter across the bricks until it nudged up against a boiler-suit-encased leg. It travelled slowly up the grey leg, stopping when it reached a clawed hand of wrinkled skin.

Jack was now sure he knew what was happening. Fortunately, he was prepared for anything. He confidently reached into his pocket, and pulled out…

…nothing.

Jack fished around in his pocket, but there was nothing there. Confused, he carefully moved the flashlight to his other hand, trying not to the beam, and reached into his other pocket.

Still nothing.

“Shit,” Jack said, withdrawing his hand and slowly backing away, keeping a firm grip on the gun. “Henry,” he said quietly.

Henry, meanwhile, was more preoccupied with a bite mark he had found on the patient’s upper left arm. An eerily familiar bite mark. “I think I’ve seen this before,” he said. “Do you remember the attacks I was telling y-”

“Henry,” Jack said again, keeping his voice as level as he could.

Henry finally noticed the urgency in his boyfriend’s tone, and looked up. “What is it?”

“We need to go.”

“No,” Henry said, “we need to wait for an ambulance to arrive. There’s only so much I can-”

“Now, Henry.”

Henry paused, standing up. He hadn’t heard so much concern in his boyfriend’s voice since he had thought Henry was dead, on the night they discovered each other’s immortality. “Why?”

Jack spoke quickly, keeping his voice low. “Because there’s a weevil on the other side of that dumpster and I don’t have any spray.”

Henry blinked. “You’re worried about a beetle?”

“Not exactly.” There was a rattling sound from the other side of the dumpster, and Jack grabbed Henry’s upper arm. “Come on.”

Henry shook his arm free. “No,” he said, bending back down to his patient.

Jack sighed. “You know those bear attacks?” he asked quickly, urgently.

Henry looked up sharply. “Yes.”

“Well,” Jack said, “I think you’re about to meet the bear.”


	3. Not a bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading thus far. It's been nearly a year since this fic updated, but I'm going to make an effort to finish this story now I'm not so busy with school and stuff.  
> So I've upped the content rating of the story, mostly for this chapter - it's a bit more graphic in terms of gore and sexual content (not much of the latter, don't get excited). But if you're not a fan of injury descriptions, you might want to skip to the horizontal line about half-way down.

It wasn’t a bear.

It wasn’t like anything Henry had ever seen, which was saying something given the amount of time he had had to see things.

It certainly wasn’t human. Henry wasn’t even sure it was from this planet, despite what his logical brain was telling him.

Whatever it was, it was hideous. About six feet tall, with a bald, misshapen head and wrinkled skin, particularly between the eyes. And what eyes! They were set far back into the creature’s head, hollow and dark and unlike anything Henry had ever seen. It crouched on the ground like an ape, watching them around the corner of the dumpster.

Henry let out a breath slowly. “That’s what attacked this man?”

Jack nodded, watching the weevil carefully. “I think it killed your other victims as well.”

“What is it?”

Jack spoke quickly and quietly, keeping very still. “We call them weevils. We don’t know where they’re from, or what they call themselves. But we do know that they’re aliens.”

Henry blinked, glancing across at Jack. “I’m sorry?”

“Aliens,” Jack explained. “From another planet. They came to Earth by accident, through a rift in space and time.”

Henry turned his eyes back on the creature, which was watching them warily. “What now?”

“You wanted to know what I do for a living, Henry,” Jack said grimly. “Well, this is it.”

Henry blinked. It was a lot to take in.

“Look, we can talk about this later,” Jack told him, “but right now, we need to get out of this alley. We’re both in danger if we stay, and believe me, death by weevil is not fun.”

Henry glanced back at his patient. “But what about-”

“It’s too late for him, Henry,” Jack said, reaching out to hold his boyfriend’s arm.

Bad move.

The weevil started at the action, and stood upright. It was about the same height as the men, and was wearing a grey boiler suit, Henry noticed.

Jack’s grip tightened on Henry’s arm. “Stay…very…still.”

“But you just-” Henry looked back around, to see the weevil snarling at them, crouching as though to pounce.

“Oh.”

They stayed like that for several seconds, Henry and Jack frozen, the weevil eyeing them up. Then everything happened at once.

The weevil leapt towards them, claws-first.

Jack pushed Henry to the side, away from the weevil.

Henry stumbled, and fell over the dead body.

The weevil landed on Jack, pushing him to the ground.

Jack and the weevil grappled for a few moments. They rolled around, each trying to get the advantage.

_Thud!_

A garbage can lid appeared out of nowhere, whacking the weevil over the head and knocking him off Jack. Jack blinked, before seeing Henry standing above him, holding the lid and extending a hand to help him up.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for Henry’s hand…

An inhuman growl came from beside them. The weevil leapt at Henry’s throat, knocking him once more to the ground.

Jack scrambled to his feet. He ran across and grabbed the weevil’s shoulders, trying to pull it off Henry.

The weevil stood up and flung out its arm, knocking Jack to the ground. He got up in time to see the weevil lolloping away, out of the alley and onto the street.

Jack ran after it. He reached the end of the alley and looked around to see…

Nothing. The weevil was gone.

Jack frowned, before noticing an open manhole a few feet away. He dashed over and pulled the cover over the manhole. That would make sure the weevil stayed in the sewer, at least until Jack could find some weapons, or weevil spray.

Jack made his way back to the alley, seeing his boyfriend prone on the ground. He rushed over to Henry, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him onto his back.

A pit settled in Jack’s stomach. “No,” he breathed.

There was a large bite in Henry’s neck, painting his neck and chest a startling red. Henry was conscious, but he was struggling to breathe, the air gurgling in and out of his mouth. His eyes found Jack, and he gave a small smile. “Jack,” he croaked.

Jack knelt down next to Henry, carefully supporting his head. “Don’t try to talk.”

Henry started to shake his head, then he stopped and winced. “Going…to…”

“It’s okay, Henry.” Jack blinked away the tears that were pricking at his eyes, trying to smile. “In a moment you’re going to be in the river, and then I’ll go pick you up. I’ll be there for you. I promise.”

Henry nodded slowly, the small action agonising. He raised a hand to his boyfriend’s cheek and patted it, his fingers leaving a smear of blood. Then his eyes lost focus, and looked up towards the sky.

And just like that, Jack’s arms were empty.

Jack let out a shaky breath, and stood up. He wiped at his eyes, and his fingers came away wet, a mixture of tears and his boyfriend’s blood.

Jack took a couple of deep breaths, looking up to the starless sky. Forcing himself to focus, he flipped open the vortex manipulator on his wrist and programmed in some co-ordinates.

A moment later, the alleyway was empty, save for one dead body which lay forgotten under a large metal dumpster.

* * *

Henry surfaced in the all-too-familiar river. His hand automatically flew to his neck, and he felt a rush of relief when he found it to be whole again.

Then everything came flooding back to him, and Henry realised that he had died in front of Jack for the first time. Well, technically the second, but since Jack had also been dead the first time, it didn’t really count.

Henry struck out for the shore, the freezing water biting at his bare skin the whole way. That was a feeling that he would never get used to.

As he neared the shore, he saw a figure kneeling at the edge of the water. He appeared to be washing his hands. Getting closer, Henry could see it was Jack, who was now scanning the horizon. He caught sight of Henry and started to wave, and Henry changed his course towards him.

As soon as Henry stepped ashore, Jack pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around Henry. “You must be freezing.”

Henry was; his teeth were chattering as he managed to say, “How on Earth did you get here so fast?”

Jack pulled his shirt sleeve down over the leather strap on his arm. “I’ll explain it later. Let’s get you some clothes first.”

Henry nodded. Jack put an arm around his shoulders, and together they began to make their way through the darkened park.

“So that creature…” Henry started to say, then realised he didn’t know what he wanted to ask. What was it? Where did it come from? How did it get to Earth? Eventually, he decided on, “how did you know what it was?”

Jack thought for a moment. “Do you remember I told you that I used to work in Wales?” Henry nodded, and Jack continued. “Well, when I was there, I was working with a team of people. There were five of us, for most of the time anyway. It was our job to try and keep Wales – Cardiff, specifically – safe from any aliens that came through this rift in time and space.”

Henry nodded, as though this made sense. “A rift. Like a portal?”

“Something like that, yes.” And so Jack told Henry about his little team in Cardiff, and how they had fought aliens from across the galaxy, all of whom had come to Earth by accident and most of whom just wanted to get back home. “The weevils were the most common. We didn’t know where they came from, or who they are, but their outfits and general level of intelligence lead me to think they are a slave race from somewhere far away.”

“Slaves?”

“Possibly. Or workers of some sort. But slaves are more common.”

“So they end up on Earth, not knowing where they are or how they got here?”

Jack nodded.

“So then they attack people, it’s not pre-meditated. It’s just their natural instincts. They look as though they’ve evolved to be hunters, with the teeth and the claws, and they see humans as food.” Henry nodded to himself, the picture beginning to take shape in his head. “The bear attacks we’ve been getting at work, they’re people who have come across one of these weevils.”

“That’s right,” Jack said, sounding impressed. “You weren’t too far off with your bear theory. They have similar instincts.”

“And similar claws.”

“Exactly.” Jack noticed that Henry was beginning to limp. “Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing.”

Jack registered for the first time that they were walking down a gravel path, and that Henry had no shoes on. He stopped. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, reaching down and beginning to take off his shoes.

“I don’t mind, Jack, you don’t need to-”

“Nonsense. Besides, my feet heal fast. You need them more than me.” He handed his shoes to Henry, and wiggled his toes in their socks. “See?”

Henry gratefully put the shoes on, and they kept making their way through the park. Henry knew they looked silly, one man in socks and one in only a coat; but there was nobody around, and this was New York. Nobody would care.

Eventually they got to the street. “We should get you some more clothes,” Jack said, looking around.

“I left my suitcase in your car,” Henry pointed out. “Which way is that from here?”

Jack shook his head. “It’s too far to walk in only a coat. My apartment is closer, we can stop there and get you something to wear first.”

Twenty-seven minutes later, Henry was standing in front of Jack’s closet, pulling out a blue shirt. “A vortex manipulator?” he asked, holding the shirt up in front of his chest to check the fit.

“That’s right.” Jack’s leather wrist-strap was lying on his desk, and he was bent over it, shirt sleeves rolled up, fiddling with the controls. “I managed to get it working again, thanks to some help from a guy I know off-world, but it needs time to charge in between uses.”

“How long?”

“At least an hour, sometimes more.”

“So we won’t have to wait long, then.”

Jack glanced sidelong at Henry. “You’re taking this very calmly. Most people freak out when it gets to the aliens, but you don’t seem bothered.”

Henry shrugged. “I’m immortal, as is my boyfriend. I surpassed the ‘strange’ horizon a long time ago. Besides,” he added conversationally, “I believe there’s at least a twenty percent chance that this is all a dream, and I will wake up any moment.”

“Well, don’t wake up just yet,” Jack muttered, frowning down at the leather strap. “I need you here for now.”

“There.” Henry turned to face Jack, holding his arms out. “How do I look?”

Jack looked over at Henry, and faltered for a moment. He was wearing a set of his suspenders, and a blue shirt, with more buttons undone than Jack knew he was normally comfortable with. “You look good,” he said, when he found his voice.

“Just good?” Henry sounded disappointed. “I was hoping for a little more than that,” he said, walking over slowly.

Jack licked his lips. “Did I say good? I meant to say gorgeous.” He took a step towards Henry, closing the space between them.

“That’s what you called me earlier,” Henry pointed out.

“It’s still true.”

The two men were almost the same height, something else which made them so suited to one another. It also meant that when Jack put his hands on either side of Henry’s head and gently brought their foreheads together, they were at the perfect level.

They stood like that for a moment. “You just died, Henry,” Jack murmured.

“That’s nothing,” Henry half-whispered. “You should have seen me a year ago. I was dying every other week.”

Jack couldn’t help chuckle at that. “Careless.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Jack took a shaky breath. “I just watched you die.”

Henry pulled his head back, just slightly, to better look at Jack. “I know. But look how alive I am now,” he said. He reached up and took Jack’s hand, moving it from his head down to the side of his neck where the bite mark had been. “I’m not going away any time soon.”

With that, Jack pulled Henry in for a deep kiss which Henry gladly reciprocated, pushing Jack back a step in his eagerness. They automatically settled into a rhythm, Henry’s arms around Jack’s shoulders, Jack’s hands at the back of Henry’s head.

After a few seconds, or minutes, or years, Henry pulled back, breathing heavily. “Should we go after the weevil?”

Jack shook his head. “They move fast,” he said breathlessly. “The one we met could be anywhere now.”

“Fair enough,” Henry said, and pulled Jack back in, walking him a couple of steps backwards.

A moment later, Jack spoke again. “Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“Never bring up weevils in the bedroom again, yeah?”

Henry laughed, pushing Jack backwards onto the bed and following him down.


	4. Un-bear-able conclusions

A ray of sunlight shone through Jack’s bedroom window. It landed on the floor, and slowly made its way up the side of the bed, eventually coming to rest on Henry’s sleeping face. Henry blinked, opening his eyes and squinting. He rolled over, and came face to face with Jack, who was still sleeping peacefully.

Henry smiled, remembering the events of last night. His death had been especially painful, but the subsequent events had more than made up for it.

He watched Jack sleep for a while, his chest rhythmically rising and falling. There was something calming about watching the person you love sleeping, being so vulnerable, so innocent.

After a while, a smile crept across Jack’s face. “Are you watching me?” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“Maybe,” Henry whispered.

“Why?”

“I love you.”

Henry didn’t mean to say it so abruptly, but there was something about the moment, his still-sleepy calm state that made the words just slip out. A moment later, he realised that he meant it.

Jack opened his eyes slowly. “Really?”

“Of course.”

He smiled sleepily. “Well then, I love you, too.”

* * *

 Later, Henry finished getting changed into a set of Jack’s clothes (the same ones he had worn last night, for about five minutes), and turned to Jack. “Are you ready to go?”

Jack nodded, strapping the vortex manipulator onto his wrist. “If we go back to the manhole by the alleyway, we can get an indication of the direction the weevil was travelling in. It’ll back faster to travel above ground, but it’d be useful to know where to go.”

Henry nodded. “Good plan.”

Jack paused. “I’m sorry for derailing our weekend plans,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Henry told him. “If we sort this out today, we can still make it down there tomorrow. Besides,” he added, “we still get to spend the day together.”

Jack grinned. “Good point. Now, we should go.”

It took Henry and Jack fifty-five minutes to get to the alley from the previous night. It would have taken less time, except that they had left Jack’s car nearby, and they kept getting lost.

“I’m sure I recognise this corner,” Henry said eventually. “Yes, I believe we walked around this corner, and then we heard-” He rounded the corner and froze.

“What is it?” Jack said, following him around. The alley was there, all right, but it was surrounded by police cars.

Jack stepped back around the corner, pulling Henry with him. “Looks like someone else found the body,” he said.

“That’s all well and good,” Henry said, “but we will look suspicious, going into a sewer right next to a police investigation.”

“Good point,” Jack said. “We need to reconsider the plan.”

Henry peered around the corner once more, just as another car pulled up and two familiar figures got out. Henry pulled back again and leaned his head against the brick wall. “It’s my friends,” he hissed. “The detectives.”

“They’re working this case?” Jack whispered. “Man, what are the odds?”

“We definitely can’t go down there now,” Henry said.

“Agreed,” Jack said, and together they slunk away down the street, towards Jack’s sports car.

Detectives Martinez and Hanson approached the alleyway. They showed their badges to a uniformed officer, who nodded and let them under the police tape.

The alleyway smelled of blood. Mike wrinkled his nose, but tried not to let his disgust show as Lucas walked up to them. “Hey, guys. Hope you ate breakfast, because it’s another messy one.”

“Another bear?” Jo asked, peering past Lucas to where a body lay under a white sheet.

“Looks like.”

“Where the Hell are these bears coming from?” Mike wondered out loud.

Lucas shrugged. “Beats me.”

Jo looked around, frowning. “Where’s Henry?”

“He’s on leave today,” Lucas said. “He’s going away with Jack for the weekend. They’re driving down to Atlantic City this morning.”

Mike smirked. “Nice for some.”

Jo, however, was frowning. “Henry told you all that?”

“I may have heard Henry talking about it on the phone,” Lucas admitted.

Jo roller her eyes. “Lucas, you have got to stop eavesdropping.”

“I don’t do it deliberately!” Lucas sounded defensive. “It just happens.”

“So,” Mike said, trying to get the conversation back on track, “anything new you can tell us about this body?”

“Uh, not much on the body,” Lucas said. “Male, mid-forties, wearing jeans and a golfing sweater. We recovered a phone, with a few missed calls, but it’s locked. No wallet, no ID yet.”

“Right,” Jo said, “we can get on that.”

“There is one other thing,” Lucas said. “There’s a lot of blood.”

“Well, yeah,” Mike said, “the guy bled to death.”

“No, I mean more than usual. People only have about ten pints of blood in them, but there seems to be more than that on the ground and the body. And look here.” Lucas pointed at the ground. “There are several sets of footprints in the blood, two or three at least. And none of them match the victim’s shoes.”

Looking down, the detectives could see that there were a lot of footprints, obviously made when the blood had been wet.

“Over here,” Lucas continued, “it looks like there was a scuffle between two people. But a long time ago, before the blood was dry. So whoever it was, they left, and didn’t report the body. Which means--”

“They were probably involved,” Jo finished.

“Hang on,” Mike said. “Are we now thinking that a person is responsible for the attacks?”

“Not necessarily,” Lucas said. “I mean, the extra blood on the ground, it could have come from someone else who was attacked. Maybe one of the other people tried to get them to the hospital?”

“We need to check the nearby hospitals,” Jo said. “If there’s a potential witness, we need to find them as soon as possible.”

As she was saying this, Mike’s eyes wandered over to the body lying prone under the blanket. He noticed something shining on the ground by the wall, and went over to check. He realised it was a cracked smartphone screen, which had been reflecting the cold winter sun. “Come on, you didn’t even bag the evidence?”

Lucas turned around, frowning. “What?”

Mike held up the phone in a gloved hand. “The phone you found. You didn’t bag it?”

Lucas shook his head slowly. “We found a phone on the body. That’s a different phone.”

“Are you sure?” Mike asked.

“One hundred percent.”

“It could belong to a witness,” Jo said. She held out her hand. “Pass it here.”

Mike walked over to them. “It’s a nice phone,” he said, handing it to Jo. “Looks almost new. Shame about the massive crack. And the blood.”

Jo frowned. “Hang on.” She turned the phone over in her hand. “This is new. It’s the same model we got Henry for his birthday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mike said.

Jo pressed the button on the side, and the screen turned on, fuzzy but decipherable. She suddenly went very still. Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she said quietly.

“What is it?” Lucas asked. Jo wordlessly handed him the phone, and he looked at the screen. He recognised the picture, all too well.

_“Come on, Henry,” Lucas had said. “It’s so easy to take a picture with this thing. Here, let me show you.”_

_“I prefer film cameras,” Henry had grumbled, handing over the phone. “They make sense to me.”_

_“This only takes a couple of seconds, come on. See, you just tap the shutter here, and boom! Picture taken.”_

_Henry frowned in concentration. “This button here?”_

_“That’s right.”_

_“Abraham, smile!”_

_Abe had half-turned towards the camera, smiling out of reflex before he realised what was happening. He put up a hand. “Oh, come on.”_

_“There.” Henry showed Lucas the first picture he had ever taken with a cellphone. In spite of his earlier disdain, he looked proud of the achievement._

Lucas stared at the somewhat blurry picture of Abe Morgan, smiling out at him from the cracked screen. He realised what must have happened, or at least part of it. “This is Henry’s phone,” he said quietly, without thinking.

“Henry?” Mike asked. “Like, Henry Morgan? The Doc?”

Lucas nodded, turning the phone around so Mike could see the screen.

Mike closed his eyes briefly. “Crap.”

“He could be okay,” Jo said, although she didn’t sound convinced.

“Any number of things could have happened,” Lucas agreed. “Perhaps he stopped by to try and help the victim.”

“Exactly,” Mike said. “Besides, the fact that he isn’t here probably means that he’s not…” He trailed off, not wanting to say what they were all thinking.

Lucas knew something about Henry that the detectives did not, but as much as he yearned to be able to tell them in that moment, he knew he could not. Instead he settled for looking worried, like Jo and Mike were doing.

Jo shook her head, as though to clear her thoughts. “We need to get on to the nearby hospitals right away,” she said. “See if Henry – or anyone else with similar injuries – has checked in the last twenty-four hours.”

Mike nodded. “We should talk to Abe as well,” he added, “see if he’s heard from Henry. Or if he knows how to get in touch with that Jack guy.”

“Let’s go,” Jo said, turning and walking towards the car.

Mike hesitated, looking at Lucas. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“I think so.”

Mike patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll find Henry,” he said. “He’ll be back soon, just you wait and see.” And then he turned and walked back to the car, where Jo was waiting, watching sympathetically.

Lucas was left with Henry’s phone, and a bad feeling in his stomach. He could piece together what had happened: Henry had been attacked by…whatever it was that was doing the attacking, and died, or gotten pretty badly hurt. Or perhaps Jack had gotten hurt, and had healed himself with his magical healing schtick. Either way, they must be fine.

But if Henry was all right, why had he not come back to get his phone? Why would he leave the evidence, after centuries of covering his tracks? And had he made it out of town this morning? No, something else must be up, and Lucas wanted to find out what it was. But first, he needed to warn Abe.

Meanwhile, Jack and Henry were sitting in the sports car, thinking hard. “We _could_ use another sewer entrance,” Jack was saying, “but in my experience it’s better not to go nosing about under active crime scenes, especially if you know the investigating officers personally.”

Henry glanced sidelong at him. “That is a very specific experience to have,” he commented.

“I have a few centuries on you, remember. You’ll understand when you get older.”

“Oh, really?” Henry raised an eyebrow, but he was grinning.

“Absolutely,” Jack told him seriously. “Now, as I was saying, we don’t have any idea which way the weevil went after it went into the sewer. If we could get a tracker on a weevil, we would be able to follow it to their nest. But we haven’t been able to get close enough without, you know, dying.”

“Which allows the weevil to get away,” Henry said. “Is there any other way to track a weevil? Or,” he added as a thought occurred to him, “what if we left out some raw meat, as bait, with a some sort of tracking device inside?”

Jack started to shake his head, then he considered the idea. “You could be onto something,” he said. “Weevils are largely nocturnal, so we’d have to wait until night to leave something out, and then we couldn’t guarantee something else wouldn’t get to it first.”

“It’s always dark underground,” Henry pointed out. “We could try putting something in the sewer, away from the crime scene around the corner. But the police haven’t been able to find any pattern to the locations of the attacks. Have you managed to find anything about where the attacks are centred?”

“Nothing,” Jack said, “but I like the way you think. It’s worth a shot. I’d need to pick up some supplies first, and find a tracker that’s small enough to go in the bait.”

“And I need to see Abraham,” Henry added. “I promised him that we would call when we got to the hotel, and he’ll be worried if he doesn’t hear from us today.”

“You can call him from my phone,” Jack offered.

“Thank you,” Henry said, “but Abraham’s phone number is one of the few things I have not yet managed to commit to memory.”

“That’s fine,” Jack said. “We can swing by the shop on the way.”

He turned on the engine, and the sports car pulled out of the parking space with a throaty roar.

* * *

 “So you need to act surprised and worried, but don’t actually worry. I think Henry’s all right,” Lucas was saying. “But they can’t know this. Okay?”

“Okay. I think,” said Abe. There was a knock at the door, and he looked up to see Jo standing at the door to his shop. “Hang on, they’re here. I gotta go.”

“Good luck!” Lucas said, and then Abe hung up.

Abe strode over and let Jo in. “Detective,” he said warmly. “This is a shop, you know. You don’t have to knock to come in.”

Jo smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes. “Can I talk with you, Abraham?”

“Well, this sounds serious,” Abe said lightly. Jo looked grim, and Abe’s smile faded. “I’ll close up shop for a few minutes,” he said. “Go on up.” He gestured towards the stairs at the back of the shop, and Jo nodded and went up. Abe walked over to the door and turned the sign around. He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath; then he turned and went upstairs.

Jo was standing awkwardly in the middle of the lounge. “Sit down,” he told her. “You want some coffee?”

She shook her head, remaining standing. “No, thank you,” she said. “Do you want to take a seat? I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

Abe sat down, looking worried. “Is everything okay? Am I in trouble?”

“No! No, nothing like that.” Jo paused, thinking about how to work what she needed to say.

“Is Henry in trouble?”

“We’re not sure.” Jo sat down of the couch next to him. “Abe, have you heard from Henry this morning?”

He shook his head. “Nope, not since yesterday morning. Henry and Jack – do you know who Jack is?” Jo nodded, and Abe continued. “They’re going out of town for the weekend. Henry took a suitcase with him.”

“Do you know where they’re going?”

“Atlantic City,” Abe replied. “Look, what’s happened? Have you heard something from Henry?”

Jo closed her eyes and took a breath. She hated this bit of the job.

She told Abe briefly about the cases they had been assigned, with the mysterious attacks; and in more detail, what they had found that morning, specifically Henry’s phone. “Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean there’s anything to worry about. Henry’s a doctor, it’s possible that he stopped and tried to help the victim we found. But this does make him a possible witness, so we need to find him if possible.”

Abe’s eyes were wide as she finished the story. “But he might not just be a witness, you’re saying. He could be hurt.”

“It’s possible,” Jo said gently. “That’s another reason we need to find him, as soon as possible. Can you think of anywhere he might go? You know him better than anyone. You’re like a father to him.”

 _If only you knew how wrong you are,_ Abe thought but did not say. “He spends a lot of time in the park by the East River,” he said. “You know the one?”

“Where he went skinny-dipping that time?”

“That’s the one,” Abe said.

Jo made a note in her notebook. “Anywhere else?”

Abe shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s normally here, there, or at work. Or Jack’s apartment.”

“Do you know where that is?” Jo asked. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with Jack, but we can’t find any way to contact him.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know Jack’s address. I know it’s west of here, but further than that, I have no idea.”

“That’s okay,” she told him. “How about a phone number?”

Abe shrugged. “I don’t know his number. If I wanted to talk to him I’d just call Henry, they’re usually together.”

Jo frowned at that, wondering how she could have completely missed the fact that Henry was in a relationship, when it seemed that everybody else knew. “It’s all right,” she said nonetheless. “Do you have any idea where Jack works? We might be able to reach him there.”

“At the risk of sounding repetitive,” Abe said, “I have no idea, sorry. Jack…he’s a private person, and I really don’t know him that well.”

Jo made a note in her notepad, and stood up. “Well, I should get going,” she said. “I need to follow up on a couple of other leads.”

Abe stood up also. “I’m wish I could be more helpful,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “And try not to worry about Henry, yeah? There’s probably an innocent explanation. We’ll find him soon, I’m sure.” She rested a hand on Abe’s shoulder for a second, then turned and headed down the stairs. She stopped halfway down and turned around as something occurred to her. “If you think of anything else, or if you hear from Henry or Jack, can you contact me as soon as possible?”

Abe nodded. “Of course.”

Jo left, and Abe flopped back down onto the couch, letting out a long breath. He closed his eyes and sighed. _Henry,_ he thought, _wherever you are, there had better be a good explanation for this._

As it happened, the explanation came a lot sooner than he had expected. About a quarter of an hour later, Abe went downstairs to open the shop back up again. He had barely flipped the sign over when two familiar figures appeared in the window.

Abe opened the door and beckoned Henry and Jack into the shop. He hurriedly closed the door behind them.

“What is going on?” he demanded.

Henry and Jack glanced at each other. “It’s a long story-” Henry began to say, before Abe cut him off.

“I’ve had Lucas on the phone, and then Detective Martinez just came around here, asking about you. The poor woman looked really worried, Henry. What have you done?”

Henry looked mystified. “Jo? Why was she here?”

“They found your phone at the scene of a murder, all broken and bloody. They think you were attacked by a bear or something.”

Henry and Jack exchanged an alarmed look. “It must have fallen from my pocket when I fell over,” Henry said quietly.

“They’ll be looking for both of us now,” Jack realised. “This will make it more difficult to investigate, for starters.”

“And we’ll need to come up with an alibi,” Henry added, “to explain why my phone was at the scene.”

“Well?” Abe was watching them impatiently, arms folded, eyebrows raised. “You had better have a good explanation.”

Henry turned back to Abe and took a deep breath. “Like I was saying, it’s a long story.”


End file.
